At Sea
by Tinderbox Lily
Summary: Pirate AU that I recklessly started when the plot bunny attacked. FrUK. Now belongs to Megan Lo Saurus; continuation is on her profile.
1. Chapter 1

A/N - So I started my first FrUK fic a few days ago, and obviously, rather than adding to that, I had to write a new fic. A Pirate one! It's quite short so far, cause I'm lazy and cba to write much, but oh well... Anyways, reviews are love! :)

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><p>They had been sailing for days now. The seas had been calm, the winds fair, and so far they'd only met with a mild storm that had left the <em>Mary Rose<em> battered but intact.

It was Arthur's first time at sea, and while he had quickly adapted, he still hadn't overcome his sense of wonder at this completely unfamiliar world.

He was fascinated by it all; the swish and thud of the waves against the ship's hull, the salty tang of the wind on his skin. And most of all, the emptiness of this unending turquoise ocean, blurred into azure at the horizon.

As the ship's carpenter, Arthur was well respected and left to himself as he had asked. After all, the crew's lives did depend on how well he did his job. Still, as much as he wanted to visit the New World, there were times when he wondered about his decision to spend long weeks on a ship with a group of drunk Dutchmen.

And then there were those few moments that made it worth it - moments such as this one.

It was evening, and most of the crew were in the galley; eating, laughing, and generally getting as drunk as possible on the cheap rum they seemed to have copious quantities of. Only Arthur had chosen to remain on deck.

This meant that Arthur was left relatively undisturbed. He leaned over the side of the ship, hypnotised by the foamed sea. For a while the sound of the wind and the waves drowned out the sounds issuing from the galley.

Arthur glanced at his pocket watch, and saw that he still had a little while longer to himself. Closing the watch carefully, he looked back out across the waves.

A faint shape loomed through the dark, and Arthur squinted, trying to make out what it was.

It was another ship, slightly smaller than their own - a sloop. She was moving much faster than the _Mary Rose_ could, which was a ship designed for long journeys rather than the fast pace of battle.

Probably pirates, Arthur guessed. The question was, what should he do? It would be a waste of his time telling his fellow shipmates. They would probably laugh it off, drunken idiots that they were. Even if he was wrong about them, it wasn't as if there was much they could do about it. No matter how well they fought, they would inevitably be defeated.

He sighed. If there was one thing Arthur had always believed in, it was that he would go down fighting, or not go down at all. Maybe these Dutch fools would have some of that same spirit? It was worth a shot.

He turned and padded back across the deck to the galley.

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><p>Francis examined the ship they were drawing close to. It was a carrack, slower than his own ship and, judging from the sounds of drunken uproar carried by the wind, the crew were in no position to fight.<p>

He nodded to his quartermaster, Antonio.

It was time for battle.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N - So currently I'm debating on whether to make this fic slightly on the dark side (am I the only one who thinks of cookies whenever anyone mentions that?) or slightly on the fluffy side, and I was wondering, which would people prefer? Anyways, if anyone would like to voice their opinion, please do - if not, I'll probably go for slightly fluffier as I have more experience in that area, and am almost definitely incapable of writing anything explicit XD

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><p>They hadn't stood a ghost of a chance.<p>

When Arthur had warned the other sailors, they'd just laughed him off. They'd kept drinking right up until the moment the pirates had arrived and surrounded them in a wicked ring of swords and pistols.

Now, they were standing on the deck of the small sloop, having been forced to unload most of their precious cargo onto the pirate ship.

The pirates surrounding them were smirking and congratulating each other. To be honest, Arthur thought resentfully, it was really rather pathetic considering how much fighting they'd actually had to do.

Then a voice barked an order in French, and they were silent.

A tall man stepped forwards to address the captives - presumably the captain from the way the others respectfully moved out of the way - and Arthur tried hard not to stare.

He had cobalt blue eyes, and his blond hair was tied loosely against the wind. His attire should have looked ridiculous - he was wearing a long, dark brown coat that hung open to reveal a loose white shirt, open at the neck.

Arthur tore his gaze away from the caramel skin the open shirt revealed, and focussed instead on the arsenal of weapons that hung from his belt.

_'Merci_ for handing over your cargo so willingly,' the captain smirked, French accent heavy on each word.

Arthur glared at him. 'You sure are smug for someone who only defeated a crew of inebriated idiots. Is this your first victory or something?'

A taut silence met his words. All eyes swiveled to the captain to gauge his reaction.

The captain sauntered towards him, and Arthur could see himself walking the plank in a matter of seconds. But he lifted his chin proudly and met the other's narrowed blue eyes. After several long seconds, the captain laughed. 'What's your name, boy?'

'I'm not a boy, I'm twenty-one.' Arthur said irritably, knowing how petty his words sounded. He was just fed up of being patronised - after all, if those _idiots_ had listened to him earlier, they wouldn't even be in this mess. 'And why should I tell you my name?'

'Very well. My name is Francis Bonnefoy, legendary French pirate. You have heard of me, _non?'_

He had, but Arthur wasn't about to boost this idiot's ego. 'Never. Why should I concern myself with a French bastard?'

'You wound me, _mon cher.'_

Arthur's face flushed. He only knew a little French, but it was enough to understand what that meant, and he was nobody's darling. 'Kirkland. My name is Arthur Kirkland,' he snapped, realising straight afterwards how easily he'd been tricked into giving his name.

Bonnefoy smirked again. Then he turned abruptly. _'Antoine!'_

One of the pirates looked up. _'Ouais?'_

_'Retournes les prisonniers à leurs navire. Sauf celui-ci - il m'interesse.'_

_'Bien sûr, capitaine.' *_

Arthur glared at them and wished he could understand what they were saying.

The pirate called Antoine rattled off a series of commands in rapid French, and the rest of the pirates hurried to do his bidding. Arthur's shipmates were quickly herded into several tiny boats and rowed back to the _Mary Rose._

Leaving Arthur standing alone on the deck of the sloop.

He caught sight of Bonnefoy standing alone on the bowsprit, and marched up to him. 'Hey, you French bastard! Why can't I go back to my ship?'

'Sorry,_ mon cher,_ but you are much too interesting to set free.'

'What's that supposed to mean?' Arthur replied furiously.

Bonnefoy looked him up and down and leered.

Arthur felt a fresh wave of anger curl in his belly. He clenched his fists to stop himself from punching the grin off that damn pirate's face.

Bonnefoy didn't seem to care - if anything, he looked almost pleased by Arthur's reaction. He smiled in satisfaction, and said the four words that would change Arthur's life.

'Welcome aboard the _Achéron…'_

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><p>*Going on my (not even) GCSE french, so please tell me if there are mistakes:<p>

'Ouais' - Yeah

'Retournes les prisonniers à leurs navire. Sauf celui-ci - il m'interesse.' - Return the prisoners to their ship. Except this one - he interests me.

'Bien sûr, capitaine' - Certainly, captain

Just FYI, Achéron is the (frenchified) name of a river which is mythologically connected to the Styx, the river to the Underworld. Hence choosing it as the name of a pirate ship :) (why do I know this? Hooray for useless knowledge... DX)

And in response to Asche's review, I'm sorry, but I have NO idea whether it was the name of Napoleon's ship… Sorry!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N - I was on holiday, hence the insanely long break between uploads. And later today, I'm going on holiday again (thanks to the Royal Wedding :D) But anyways, more importantly, I tried to do the whole darkfluff thingy and it may possibly have failed a teensy bit… Fluff is an unstoppable force. It tirelessly invades everything with its fluffiness. So yeah, sorry if this disappoints the people who were looking forward to the dark! And finally, I promise to shut up soon, Please tell me if there are typos? I'm a lazy bum who doesn't bother reading through stuff, so it may be riddled with errors. Thanks, and hope you enjoy :)

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><p>Francis looked at the man seething in fury in front of him.<p>

He really was most interesting, he thought. Most of the people Francis captured were much too scared to stand up to him, or even say anything at all, yet this Kirkland was entirely unafraid.

'Did you hear me? Because I absolutely will.' Those green eyes blazed fiercely, and Francis could see pure determination burning within.

He snapped out of his train of thoughts. 'Will what, _mon cher?'_

Kirkland glowered at him. 'Either you let me go, or so help me I will kill you in your sleep.'

Francis laughed. It had been so long since anyone spoke to him like this; it was exhilarating. 'You can try. I sleep lightly, and armed. When you fail, maybe I will let you off my ship. Or maybe I'll allow you a less painful death...' He said musingly.

Alarm flickered briefly across Kirkland's face, but it was barely perceptible before his expression became blank again. He stepped closer to Francis so that they were inches apart, and looked at him evenly. 'You'll be dead before you can shout for help.'

Francis was about to respond when he saw Kirkland's lips quirk in a tiny smile of triumph. That tiny rustling he'd heard - Francis had presumed it was the wind. But what if…?

He quickly caught Kirkland's wrist. In his hand was one of Francis' daggers. Kirkland matched his gaze unrepentantly, and Francis felt a thrill of excitement.

He pinned Kirkland against the side of the ship, holding his wrists so that he couldn't fight back. 'Considering the situation, _mon cher,_ that was a rash move. After all, I am a pirate.'

Kirkland tried to shift away, but Francis just leaned closer. Their faces were scant inches apart.

The wind blew Kirkland's sandy hair into his eyes, and the smaller man blinked in irritation.

'I can have you killed in a heartbeat,' Francis murmured, reaching up to brush back Kirkland's windswept hair, the movement so gentle it was almost a caress. His hand hovered at his captive's cheek.

He felt Kirkland shiver slightly, yet those green eyes still looked back at him undaunted.

And at that moment, he realised there was no way he could ever hurt this man. nyarf

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><p>When Bonnefoy stepped back, Arthur let out a shaky breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding.<p>

There was something about the pirate, something that had Arthur completely captivated. Even if he had successfully stolen the dagger, would he have been able to kill Bonnefoy?

He shook his head to clear himself of the thought.

Bonnefoy looked at him steadily, then held out the dagger.

Arthur stared at it in surprise.

'You can have the knife.'

'Why?'

Bonnefoy grinned, baring white teeth.

'Because, _mon cher,_ how else do you plan on killing me? We have just seen that I am stronger than you. Even with this blade, I doubt you will be able to attack successfully.'

Arthur scowled but couldn't argue. When the French bastard had pinned him just now, he'd been unable to escape the other's firm grip - and considering how gentle Francis' hands had been, that almost certainly wasn't even his full strength.

He took the dagger and shoved it in his pocket. He wasn't going to humiliate himself by attacking right now, when the pirate was ready and waiting.

But tonight, he would take his chance.

Tonight, he would prove Bonnefoy wrong.

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><p>Arthur turned the handle as silently as he could and slipped in, treading lightly and skirting close to the walls where the floorboards would be less likely to creak.<p>

Bonnefoy was still snoring softly when he reached the bed - Arthur hadn't made much noise, and of course being a pirate he was used to sleeping through the wind and waves.

He paused, looking down at Bonnefoy. A surge of unexpected emotion welled up inside of him.

When he was asleep, and that ever-present smirk was no longer there, Bonnefoy almost looked -

Arthur shook his head firmly, refusing to let his thoughts continue along that track. He reached into his pocket and took out the dagger. The moonlight glanced wickedly off its blade as he raised it and…

And hesitated.

He didn't want to kill Bonnefoy.

Besides, if he murdered Bonnefoy now, it would be dishonourable. Even if this was a pirate, a villain who didn't deserve his clemency - attacking a man in his sleep was low. Arthur wasn't going to sink to their level.

The pirate's eyes flew open.

_Shit._

Before he could react, Bonnefoy yanked Arthur fiercely towards him, causing him to stumble and fall onto the bed. The pirate whirled round and pushed him down, sitting on Arthur's hips before he could do much more than raise his dagger.

They were at a stalemate - the tip of Bonnefoy's knife was pressed to Arthur's throat, but Arthur's blade rested over the pirate's heart.

Bonnefoy smirked. 'Very good, _mon cher._ Just a little faster, and you would have been free.'

Arthur scowled, berating himself for his hesitation. He lowered the dagger. 'Fine. You win. Do what you will. But I won't die on this ship - I'll walk the plank, or whatever you pirates do.'

Bonnefoy reached behind Arthur and returned his own knife to its hiding place beneath the pillow.

Bonnefoy looked at him, blue eyes predatory. 'And if I choose to keep you?' He purred. He leant forwards, teeth gently teasing Arthur's ear.

Arthur swallowed, throat suddenly dry. 'I'd kill myself before becoming your toy,' he spat.

'You'll take back those words soon enough,' Bonnefoy replied, and he kissed Arthur's neck softly. Arthur bit his lip hard to hold back a moan, and the pain brought him to his senses.

'No, I never will. Now let go of me!' He snarled.

Bonnefoy smiled and stood gracefully, holding out a hand to Arthur. He ignored the gesture and got up on his own.

'On that other ship, the _Mary Rose_. What was your position?'

'Carpenter.'

_'D'accord._ What experience do you have?'

'Why should I tell you?'

Bonnefoy smirked. 'Then I'm guessing none? I knew you weren't twenty-one.' He tutted. 'You shouldn't lie, _mon cher.'_

Arthur sighed inwardly. There really was no point arguing with this man. 'I worked as a shipbuilder and repairer at a port back in London. But this is my first time at sea.'

Bonnefoy laughed. 'First time, and you already ran into pirates? _Mon cher,_ you have bad luck.'

Arthur glared at him balefully.

_'Alors. _We have need of a skilled carpenter on board - unfortunately, it is more important that we have a carpenter than that I have a pet.'

'And if I don't want to help you?'

Bonnefoy shrugged. 'So far, the assistant carpenter has been coping pretty well with repairs. But in any case, I won't let you escape, _mon cher. _You are very… Intriguing. It would be a waste if you were to die.'

For a moment, Arthur could only stare at Bonnefoy in horror, those few words reverberating through him with terrible finality. _I won't let you escape._

There was no way out.

Arthur's anger flared up, pouring words out of him in a torrent of fury. 'You can keep me alive. But you can't make me do anything more, and I absolutely refuse to help you or your shipmates in any way. If your ship is damaged and the assistant carpenter can't fix it, I won't help, even if it means I go down with you.'

Bonnefoy grinned. 'Good night, _mon cher.'_

Arthur didn't reply. Furious, he turned and stalked out.

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><p>Francis lay back, resting his head on his arms.<p>

He was torn between triumph and regret. On the one hand, Kirkland was to stay on the _Achéron_ indefinitely, but on the other, he was almost sure that he had permanently lost what little goodwill Arthur may have borne him.

He thought back over the past few minutes.

Kirkland had been more skilled than he'd expected. He wasn't as strong as Francis, but he was quiet, and Francis knew that his waking when he had was more down to his good fortune than a mistake on Kirkland's part.

If Kirkland tried again, he might not be so lucky.

Francis sighed.

He would chance it. He was worried that if he took away too much of Kirkland's freedom, he'd become like all the others - respecting him, never challenging his authority. Which, as captain, was necessary, but so frustrating sometimes.

True, he'd always have Antonio. They'd been friends since the Spaniard arrived in France as a young boy, and Antonio knew him better than almost anyone. Francis trusted him and was trusted by him. But there was something about Kirkland…

Francis closed his eyes and concentrated on the soothing motion of the ship. He'd worry about this later.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N - I'm sorry guys! The reason this was put on hiatus was because I am quite literally incapable of writing dark, as I discovered as soon as I was asked to write it. So I asked my friend to collaborate and write the dark of this story for me, and I'd just chip in with the occasional fluffy moment.

But then she started writing something herself, and if I force her to write this with me she won't get her thing done cause she's a lazy bum so I decided not to because I really wanna read the rest of her thing. So this thing was never gonna be updated.

So I decided to continue writing it myself, and if people don't mind about how extraordinarily pathetic and un-dark it is, I can keep updating. (Either way, the story will be edited to include darkness as soon as my friend gets round to it.) Hope that all makes sense!

Anyways, it'd be really helpful if you could drop a review, either to say 'continue!' or 'would prefer to wait for dark :)' kinda thing - if not I will happily move on to one of the zillion other FrUK bunnies that are chasing me :) Very sorry for rambling! And for terrible portrayals of Gil and drunk!Arthur… orz

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><p>Arthur carefully wound his old pocket watch, gently turning the stem until he felt the slight resistance that signified it was set.<p>

'What are you doing, _mon cher?'_ A voice murmured in Arthur's ear, and he whirled around to see Bonnefoy standing _much too close._

'Nothing,' he said quickly, shoving the watch back into his pocket before Bonnefoy could see it clearly. The pirate noticed him hide it, and a smug expression came across his face. Arthur was sure that look would spell trouble for him.

But all Bonnefoy said was, _'D'accord._ In that case, swab the deck.'

Arthur was about to complain, but he bit back his refusal. Maybe if he was obedient, Bonnefoy would stop asking questions that he didn't want to answer. And either way, it wasn't as if Bonnefoy could continue to bother him when he was doing as the pirate wanted.

'Fine.' He said shortly, and stomped off.

Not content with this, Bonnefoy followed Arthur, disbelief written across his face. 'Fine? That's it? You're so obedient, _mon cher._ Whatever happened to that fiery defiance from yesterday?'

'No matter what I want to believe, I'm still your prisoner,' Arthur said. 'I don't have much of a choice, do I?'

Bonnefoy looked slightly crestfallen, and Arthur had to wonder why. After all, isn't that what he had wanted to hear?

It didn't matter either way. Moments later, Bonnefoy was called away, and Arthur was left blissfully alone.

Not for long.

Arthur had been left in peace for not more than five minutes, when something barreled into him at high speed. Further inspection revealed that it was a who, rather than a what - a man with silver-white hair and deep red eyes.

'What're you gawkin' at?' He snarled. Arthur stared at him blankly, and the stranger swore colourfully before switching to halting French. 'Quand la... femme -'

'I'm not French,' Arthur interrupted, and the stranger's face cleared in relief.

'And ya couldn't've told me earlier? Ah, I guess it don't matter. When that fuckin' creepy lady gets here you ain't seen the awesome me, savvy?'

Arthur nodded. Before he could ask anything more, the man rushed over to the side of the ship and threw himself off.

He was about to call for help, but then Arthur was struck by the awful realisation that such desperate measures clearly meant whatever was coming for that man was worse than death. He shivered, and hurriedly picked up the mop again to try and take his mind off what was coming.

Seconds later, a petite brunette woman stomped up to Arthur, a heavy saucepan in her hand and and an expression of incredible fury on her face.

_'Où est-il?'_ She demanded.

Arthur swallowed back his fear and managed to speak steadily. 'I don't know what you're talking about, ma'am. I haven't seen anyone.'

The woman looked at him narrowly. She let out a stream of rapid French (none of which Arthur understood) before raising the saucepan threateningly in a gesture that needed no translation. Then she turned and marched off.

When she was out of sight, Arthur let out a sigh of relief and hurried over to see what had happened to the stranger.

He looked over the side of the ship and was met by a pair of anxious red eyes. The stranger was clinging to the outside of the ship - if he let go, he'd fall into the sea. Arthur wasn't sure whether to be impressed at the skill or concerned at the idiocy this involved. In the end, he simply said, 'She's gone,' and reached out to help the man up.

The man grinned roguishly and swung himself back up over the side of the ship, landing with a light thump beside Arthur.

'Guess I owe ya one. I'm Gil, master thief and general all-round awesome person.' He stuck out his hand and they shook.

'Arthur. Why was that woman trying to kill you?'

'Who, Lizbet? Oh, she's just angry 'cause I was watchin' her changin'. Remind me it ain't worth it. Scary lady, she is.' Gil shuddered. 'So, whatcha doin' on this ship?'

Arthur scowled. 'That bastard Bonnefoy is keeping me here for some reason. How about you?'

Gil grinned. 'I'm a stowaway,' he announced proudly. 'Thought it'd be a good idea to sneak onto a pirate ship, 'cause they got the most to steal. Got careless, got caught. But then that Bonfoy guy says I can stay, 'cause they might need someone like me. Pretty awesome dude, he is. It's a good life, 'cept none of these mugs know English and I don't speak French.'

'Yeah, my French is pretty limited too.' Arthur agreed. 'Would you mind showing me around? I'm pretty much done with this,' he gestured to the mop.

'Least I can do, Artie. I been on the Ashron a while so I know her pretty well. Follow me.'

'Thanks,' Arthur said gratefully, choosing to ignore the nickname.

Gil nodded. 'Let's go.'

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><p>In the end, Gil's supposed-to-be-awesome tour ended rather abruptly, because Gil immediately made a beeline for the galley.<p>

'This, Artie, is Luddy.' Gil said, throwing one arm around a clean-shaven, muscular blond, whose light blue eyes were glaring at Gil in a way that clearly stated, 'If you do not get off me _this instant,_ I will end you in the most painful way possible.'

Gil was unfazed by this, and ruffled his hair affectionately. 'Luddy's the cook round here, which is why he's got that hardcore apron. And he's my cute lil bro in all but blood. He's German, like me, but I been teaching him English, and he's pretty good now.'

'My name is Ludwig,' he said stiffly, continuing to glower at Gil. 'How do you do.'

'Arthur. Very well thanks, and you?'

Gil sneezed explosively. 'Can ya get me a drink, Luddy? Formalities are too boring.'

Ludwig grunted and turned to Arthur. 'Will you want one also?'

'Say 'do ya want one too', Luddy.' Gil sighed. 'Considering how awesome your teacher is, you really ain't doing so well.'

'Thanks Ludwig, I'd like that.' Arthur said hastily, interrupting before Ludwig decided to cheerfully beat Gil to death.

Six bottles of rum later, Arthur had more important things to worry about.

'An' then wha' happ'n?' Gil slurred happily.

'And then the unicorn says to me, 'Arthur,' he says, 'You gotta -'

Arthur was suddenly thwarted in his attempt at conversation by his stool spitefully choosing to tip him over. He slumped on the floor and glared at it. The stool glared back, looking entirely unrepentant. 'It was your own fault,' it seemed to say.

'What are you insinuating?' Arthur said to it coldly, enunciating as best he could. He was quite proud at his success - he had barely even stumbled over the last word, despite the fact that it was rather a long one.

The stool smirked at him, but before it could reply, Gil slid out of his own seat to collapse beside Arthur. 'An' then?' He asked.

Arthur giggled. 'What on Earth do you mean, 'and then'? You are so silly, Gil. Now, shh. This fine fellow was just trying to tell me something, were you not?' He smiled at the stool encouragingly.

'What are you doing, _mon cher?'_ An amused voice asked.

Arthur looked up, saw Bonnefoy, and pouted. 'Bloody Frenchmen.'

Bonnefoy hauled Arthur to his feet, and put an arm around his shoulders so that he didn't immediately keel over. 'Bloody Frenchmen,' Arthur repeated. But he didn't shove Bonnefoy away - it actually felt rather nice.

Gil smiled lazily and stumbled to his feet, saluting sloppily in response to an imagined command. 'Aye, cap'n!' He swayed and fell heavily to the side. Luckily, Ludwig caught and steadied him before he damaged anything.

_'Excusez-moi, Ludwig. Je pense que Arthur est __en état d'ébriété. Je m'occupe de lui, tu peux assiste l'autre ivrogne?'*_ He gestured towards Gil.

_'Oui,' _Ludwig said reluctantly.

'Stop bloody well speaking in French!' Arthur interrupted.

Francis just laughed._ 'Merci, Ludwig_. Come with me, _mon cher.'_

Too unsteady to argue back, Arthur just nodded and followed Bonnefoy back to his cabin.

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><p>Francis looked down at Kirkland and smiled. He really was an amusing drunk - for one thing, there was the way he spoke with exaggerated clarity, enunciating each word precisely, as if to prove he was nothing if not sober. And as they'd staggered back to Francis' cabin, Kirkland had prattled on cheerfully, talking to inanimate objects, imaginary creatures, and occasionally even to Francis himself.<p>

Even when they arrived at Francis' cabin, Kirkland still hadn't put himself on guard. Pouting, Kirkland had insisted that Francis called him 'Arthur, because '_mon cher'_ is poncey and Kirkland is formal.' Francis had stifled a laugh and agreed.

At some point, Francis began to wonder exactly how unwary and naïve Arthur really was when inebriated. An idea flashed into his head, and Francis smiled slyly.

'Arthur, come here.'

Arthur looked up in surprise, but stumbled towards him obediently, implicit trust in his green eyes.

When Arthur stopped, Francis softly pulled him closer. For a moment, he simply stared at Arthur, gazing at the delicate cheekbones touched with a light blush, at those tangled eyelashes that framed forest green eyes. Francis had never seen Arthur this close, and never with such an expression of trusting abandon. He wanted to savour this for as long as possible.

Then he slowly reached out and began to unfasten the buttons on Arthur's jacket.

Arthur looked puzzled, but didn't try to stop Francis as he finished taking off Arthur's jacket and his slender fingers reached for the top button of Arthur's shirt.

He hesitated.

Considering how drunk Arthur was, he probably wouldn't even remember what they had done together come morning. Francis could either take advantage of that, and do what he had wanted to ever since he'd first seen Arthur - to make him his.

But he knew that this wasn't what Arthur would have wanted. If not for the copious bottles of rum he had drunk, Arthur would be yelling and cursing and fighting Francis off as best he could.

_All the more reason to appreciate the fact that he isn't, _part of him said snidely.

He looked up at Arthur.

That expression of confusion and overwhelming trust was still present.

Francis felt ashamed. How could he have even thought of violating that trust?

'Bonnefoy?' Arthur asked uncertainly.

Francis tugged him into his arms, resting his head on top of Arthur's, who sighed and nuzzled into Bonnefoy's shoulder.

They stayed still for a while, and eventually Francis heard Arthur's breathing even out. He drew back carefully to see that Arthur was fast asleep.

Smiling fondly, Francis pressed a small kiss to his temple. _'Bon nuit, _Arthur.'

Then he gently picked Arthur up and tucked him into his bed.

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><p><em>*'Excusez-moi, Ludwig. Je pense que Arthur est <em>_en état d'ébriété. Je m'occupe de lui, tu peux assiste l'autre ivrogne?' _- Excuse me, Ludwig. I think Arthur is drunk (literal: in a state of inebriation). I will take care of him, can you help the other drunkard?

I'm _sososo_ sorry for the lack of dark! I tried, honest! But I really, really cannot write anything but fluff orz


	5. Chapter 5

A/N - For once, I have nothing to say.

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><p>When Arthur woke, the first thing he noticed was the pounding headache that beat with the rhythm of the waves against the ship's hull. The second thing he noticed drove the former completely out of mind.<p>

There was someone in bed with him.

Not only that, but whoever it was was _too close_. Arthur looked up cautiously to see Bonnefoy, sleeping peacefully as if it was nothing out of the ordinary to be sharing his bed with a stranger.

Although for him, it probably wasn't. After all, it was true that Bonnefoy was quite good-looking - well, some people might think so, even if Arthur certainly didn't. He was probably quite popular.

Arthur felt a twinge of jealousy at the thought of Bonnefoy with someone else, and it surprised him. He'd never really been the sort of person who would get jealous over such trivial things.

Blue eyes opened unexpectedly, and Bonnefoy's lips curled into a smile when he saw that Arthur was already awake.

Caught under that predatory gaze, Arthur suddenly became acutely aware of the fact that he was held firmly in Bonnefoy's arms, and that their legs were tangled in a way that meant he absolutely couldn't escape.

'Last night was fun, Arthur,' Bonnefoy purred. 'You aren't in pain, are you?'

Had Bonnefoy just called him Arthur? With a flash, Arthur remembered something from last night._ 'Arthur, come here.' _And Arthur had obeyed, and the last thing he could remember was Bonnefoy's graceful fingers unfastening…

'What happened?' He asked in horror, praying they hadn't done anything.

Bonnefoy smirked. 'Wouldn't you like to know?'

Arthur growled. 'You bastard.'

Bonnefoy laughed. 'Arthur, do you honestly think you'd have forgotten if we had gone all the way? I'd have made you feel so good, there's no way you would have blanked it out, _mon cher.'_

Arthur was torn between relief and irritation, and eventually settled for the latter. 'Of course you would, Bonnefoy.'

'Call me Francis. Bonnefoy is so formal.' Bonnefoy smirked, and another flashback smugly reminded Arthur that he'd told Bonnefoy not to call him Kirkland. Damn, he really had done a good job of embarrassing himself.

'You wish,' Arthur said shortly, and made to leave.

* * *

><p>Bonnefoy had let him go surprisingly easily, and it wasn't until Arthur reached into his pocket that he discovered why.<p>

His watch was gone.

'You absolute fucking bastard!' Arthur yelled furiously, storming back into Bonnefoy's cabin.

'Hmmm? Are you missing something, _mon cher?'_ Francis asked mockingly.

'Fuck, Bonnefoy! Give it back!'

Bonnefoy ignored him and stood up languidly, an aura of smugness surrounding him as he stepped closer to Arthur. 'I said, call me Francis.'

Arthur felt his face burn, but that wasn't important anymore. 'Francis,' he ground out.

'What are the magic words, _mon cher?'_

Arthur held back a growl and forced out the words through gritted teeth. 'Give it back, _please.'_

Bonnefoy's smile widened and he leaned closer to Arthur. When he tried to move away, Arthur felt rough wood press into his back. Tension hovered taut in the air, and Bonnefoy murmured one word.

_'Non.'_

'What? Why not!'

'It's my assurance. Do you remember when I said you would either be the ship's carpenter or my pet?'

Arthur felt himself go numb with horror, and nodded woodenly. He knew what came next.

'Now, if I want you to do something, I have bargaining power. I have heard that seawater can be damaging for watches?'

'You wouldn't.'

'Are you sure? If you want to test that…'

Arthur was silent.

For a moment, there was stillness. Then Arthur felt a gentle touch on his chin, softly tilting his head towards Bonnefoy's. He caught his breath, and time stretched endlessly between them.

Then Bonnefoy's lips were on his, soft and warm and surprisingly gentle. Arthur instinctively flinched back slightly in surprise, screwing his eyes tight shut. He berated himself inwardly, knowing he'd never forgive himself if anything was to happen to that watch, and pressed forwards.

Bonnefoy's reaction was surprisingly decent. Rather than trying to force Arthur into doing anything further, Bonnefoy pulled back reluctantly slow, and looked at him immeasurably.

'You don't want this…' He said thoughtfully.

It took a lot of effort for Arthur to stop himself from rolling his eyes and replying rudely.

'I'll wait. After all, you're mine now, and there's all the time in the world.'

Arthur glared at him. 'It's not like I'm going to fall in love with you and beg you to take me! Or don't tell me, you think that's what will happen?'

Bonnefoy grinned. 'Something like that.'

Arthur's pride flared up. 'Then get ready for a long wait. That'll never happen!'

'Then you have nothing to worry about,' Bonnefoy shrugged.

That stupid, self-confident expression never left his face.

* * *

><p>Arthur stomped out onto the deck, simmering in fury. Gil was crouched in the sun, carefully disassembling a barrel. And right now, Arthur needed nothing more than a distraction. 'What are you doing?' He asked.<p>

'Oh, hey Artie. Luddy's pissed at me for gettin' drunk last night, so he's makin' me do Feli's job and smash up this barrel.'*

'Why?'

'Make more space. The Ashron's just a sloop, she aint got much room, specially when we got craploads of these things floatin' around.' Gil sat back on his heels and contemplated his work. He grinned. 'It was worth it though. Man, you're a funny drunk.'

Arthur snorted. 'You should see yourself. At least I could stand up.'

Gil flushed and changed the subject abruptly. 'Jeez, this heat's really unawesome.' He started pulling off his shirt.

Arthur caught his breath in horror. The pale skin of Gil's back was criss-crossed by a network of scars. Some were old and faded to silvery lines, but some were more recent and stood out as newly healed wounds. 'Gil, what the hell happened?'

'Huh? Oh. A couple months back, I got double-crossed and ended up prisoner of some army psycho.' Gil spoke casually, but his eyes had darkened with fear or anger or both. 'He was fuckin' creepy, he had this sweet face and Russian accent and stuff, but then he'd just snap suddenly.'

The bottom of Arthur's stomach dropped. 'Ivan…'

'Yeah, that's him. Ivan Braginski.' He shuddered. 'You heard of him?'

'Unfortunately.' Arthur took a deep breath. Gil had told him his story, he deserved the same courtesy, no matter how hard it was to say. 'He killed my brother.'

* * *

><p>AN - The internet told me that apparently one of the important people on a ship was the cooper, who basically put together and deconstructed barrels. If you wanna see more, look at the link below:

http:/ latinamericanhistory. about. com/ od/ Pirates/p/Positions-And-Duties-On-Board-A-Pirate-Ship. htm


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